Talk to You Later
by PirateQueen890
Summary: May talks to her dead father. One-shot!


Unexpectedly, Day passed away quietly one month into his coma. Well, quietly for him. For those left behind, there was no peaceful calm or still nothing. There was chaos, rather, as an entire nation mourned. The Republic mourned the loss of a national hero. Eden mourned the loss of his older brother, the last member of his family. June mourned the loss of the boy she loved and the fact that the child growing in her was now fatherless.

For the dead folk hero, a grand state funeral was held, and a park was created and donated to him in the Lake sector. A statue of him and his family was erected in the center of the park, dedicated to the entire Wing family. There, Day was buried.

For Daniel Atlan Wing, older brother and lover, a small group of friends and family gathered to celebrate him and drink to his memory. June likes to think he would have much preferred that to any statue.

So they mourned, a baby was born, and life moved on.

* * *

The girl—almost a woman—leaned against her father's grave, remembering a day seven years before when her mother grew to be the same age as her dead uncle Matias. She couldn't help but feel something similar was happening now as to when her mother visited Matias' grave.

May was seventeen years old today, the same age her father was when he died.

She didn't know anything about him. Well, that was a lie. She knew what he was like, the brave things he did, how he used to drive his family insane, how he could run the rooftops. But she didn't know him. Staring up at the fierce face sculpted in cold stone, she wondered what sort of person her father really was. Was he a fan of cold pizza? Did he like his pies meaty or fruity? Did he even like pie? Was his laugh bright and obnoxious or something softer? Did he smile a lot? Would he have loved her?

Staring up at the beautiful but dead face of Day's statue, May had no idea whatsoever.

Her mother always said he would have loved her more than anything, and her living uncle insisted the same, but May could never be sure.

Speaking of her Uncle Eden, he had never particularly liked the statue. He said it made him and his family look too perfect, too heroic. May thought he disliked it because he would much prefer his family alive and laughing with him _at _the statue. But they were dead, and there was nothing anyone could do about that.

May searched for the dead among the living in a rather different way. She stared at the few pictures that existed of her parents' families, knowing she had the pale hair that was passed from her grandmother to her father and his brothers to May; she knew she had a lighter hue of her mother's eyes, who claimed May ran like her father. Did she?

May was an aspiring genealogist, and she supposed she had her father to thank for that. It was because of her desire to learn more about him and his family that she studied family history. A few photos and stories weren't enough for her. She wanted to find out as much as she could. Why did they live in the Lake sector? What circumstances led to their poverty? How did they end up becoming so important?

Looking at the statue, May wished—not for the first time—she could speak to the dead.

"Hey, dad," she whispered. "I thought I'd try talking to you again. Who knows, maybe you'll answer this time.

"I'm seventeen now, the same age as you. Wow," she laughed quietly, "I'm almost older than my old man. How strange is that?

"Mom's doing fine. Work's been as normal as it ever could be for her. Tess is now heading a whole hospital on her own, and Eden is always working on some new project. They all miss you. I don't know if you can miss someone you've never met, but I think I miss you too, dad."

She checked her watch. It was time to get going. May stared at the stone face once more, hoping for any sort of change, any glimmer of warmth, but it remained as cold and blank as ever.

Sighing, she stood. "I guess I'll talk to you later."

Her family would be waiting for her.

* * *

**I found the first bit of this in my notebook of random stuff and, hit by sudden inspiration and boredom, finished it. I hope you enjoyed this! **


End file.
